


a job & a half

by reynabeth



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: (tumblr), F/F, PJO secret Santa fic, Spy!AU, reynabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:06:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynabeth/pseuds/reynabeth
Summary: When Annabeth Chase loses her mother's necklace, she doesn't realise her evening is going to involve:   a) breaking and entering;  b) being held at gunpoint;  c) secret spy facilities;  d) evil organisations, or  e) all of the above.And she especially doesn't realise there might be a beautiful girl involved.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for yuuiimi on tumblr!! (secret santa fic)  
> merry christmas and i hope you like this!!

There was someone else in the house.

 

It was an old house, with crumbly walls and flaky paint. Heavy drapes hung over the grimy windows, filtering out any light. The furniture was draped with white dust sheets that weren't doing a very good job at keeping out the dust. Supposedly, its only inhabitant was the eccentric Russian, Kovalensky. Supposedly, Kovalensky was out at the pub, where he was every single Friday from four until twelve. Supposedly, the house was empty - and Annabeth should be alone.

 

Heart racing, she peered out from behind a mouldy-looking sofa. Footsteps sounded again, soft and slow, like someone was trying but failing to be quiet.

 

I am making it up, Annabeth told herself. Hallucinations were a side effect of insomnia, which she knew because she had done plenty of research whilst up in the early hours of the morning, awake due to said insomnia.

 

Anyway, Annabeth had specifically chosen this time to break in, because she knew Kovalensky would be out. And she needed to break in, because someone had stolen her silver pendant necklace that was a sort-of gift from her late mother, and Kovalensky - mad, poor, and slightly desperate - was the prime suspect.

 

So, there she was, squat behind a sofa that looked like it had seen its prime time in ’93, wishing she could just grab the necklace and go, and leave the footsteps to their own business. She'd checked the kitchen, bathroom, and dining room, none of which even appeared to be lived in. She was starting to wonder whether Kovalensky was a robot. 

 

All she needed to do was check the other floor. Which she could do if the footsteps would just - ah. They stopped. She rose to her feet, shaking out a cramp in her legs, and trying to ignore how the silence hung in the air like a baited breath.

 

In the gauzy silence, the sirens sounded almost out of place.

 

Oh, crap. Oh, crap crap crap. Annabeth, stop being paranoid. She'd left no sign of a break-in and the officers didn't have any reason to check up on the house. They were probably just - going down the road.

 

Okay, so, she'd sprint upstairs, get the necklace - if it was even there - and get out. The footsteps had stopped, and it should only take a few seconds.

 

Annabeth made it halfway up the stairs when she heard the door open. 

 

She threw herself forwards, ducking behind a heavy wooden chest.. Her heart thundered so loudly she could hear it - less like a drumbeat and more like a tiny trapped bird, faster and faster and then it skipped a beat and started again. From her position crouched behind the chest, Annabeth could just see the door.

 

A woman stepped in, dressed in a thick police jacket and dark blue pants. She had braided brown hair and tan skin, and looked about a year or two Annabeth's senior.

 

Behind the woman stood two more police officers, both men, and it was to them that the woman now turned and addressed. “Split up,” she instructed. “Spread out, cover as much area. If you find something, use the earpieces.”

 

At that moment, she looked directly up, almost making eye contact with Annabeth, who ducked behind the chest, heart hammering. The woman narrowed her eyes, hesitated, and then turned away. Annabeth exhaled loudly - too loudly.

 

The woman muttered something to the men, who spread out behind her. One stepped into the living room, and the other into the kitchen: there was something unnerving about the way they moved, with cold precision and calculation. 

 

Then the woman looked up at Annabeth again. “I know you're there. You might as well come out with your hands up.”

 

Raising her hands, Annabeth got shakily to her feet. “I'm so sorry, I -”

 

“Come here, please. Hands on your head.”

 

Keeping her hands on her head, Annabeth made her way down the stairs. How was she ever going to explain this to her father? “I can explain, I swear -”

 

“Quiet!” The woman brandished a pair of handcuffs. “If you don't co-operate, these will be going on.”

 

Annabeth nodded, searching for an escape route. The second male officer stood behind her, so she couldn't go that way, and the first blocked the other available door. She didn't fancy her chances taking on the woman.

 

“Into the car.” Annabeth followed the woman outside, where three police cars were waiting. The woman opened the passenger door for   
Annabeth, who got in.

 

Once they were both in the car, the officer seemed to relax. She placed her hands on the wheel, took a deep breath, and muttered something to herself. “Are you okay?” Annabeth asked nervously.

 

“Fine.” She did up her seatbelt, and Annabeth fastened hers, too. Then they began to drive. 

 

After they'd been driving for some time, Annabeth turned to the woman. “This isn't the way to the police station - sorry - it's back there, round the - well, I'm sure you know where it is, since -”

 

“I'm not taking you to the police station.”

 

“You're not?”

 

“No. I'm not even a police officer.”

 

“You're not even a - of course.” Annabeth leant her head back against the seat. “Of course you’re not. So where are we going, exactly?”

 

“Can't tell you. Top secret,” the woman said, keeping her eyes on the road.

 

“Can you tell me what your name is?”

 

Her hands tightened on the wheel. “You can call me Argentum.”

 

“Silver,” Annabeth said thoughtfully. “Is that your real name?”

 

“Of course not. Care to explain what you were doing at Kovalensky's?”

 

“Right. Uh. Where do I start?”

 

“Begin at the beginning,” Argentum suggested. “I need to know everything. You'll be telling it to the officials, too, but I need to know in advance. Just in case.”

 

“The… officials?”

 

Argentum's mouth snapped closed, like she'd let something slip. “Just start talking.”

 

“My mother,” Annabeth began, “died when I was one. A road accident, I was told. The only things she left behind were a silver necklace, and me.”

 

“What did the necklace look like?” Argentum demanded, suddenly urgent.

 

“It was a pendant,” Annabeth said, surprised. “Engraved with a tiny bird and a symbol I didn't understand.”

 

“The Mark,” Argentum murmured. “But how - do you have the necklace? I need to see it.”

 

“I - no. It vanished last week. When I realised it was gone, I turned the whole house upside down, searching for it. I even broke in to school after hours to look for it. Eventually, I concluded it must have been stolen. Kovalensky was my prime suspect - he lives next door, and could easily have found out where the spare key was and broken in to take it and sell it for money to spend on drink. So I waited until he went out and climbed through the kitchen window. I'd just finished searching the bottom floor when you arrived.”

 

“Miss Chase -”

 

“How do you know my name?”

 

“Your mother was not killed in a road accident.” Argentum, seemingly ignoring little important things like, oh, road safety, turned and looked Annabeth right in the eye. “She was murdered. And I know who did it.”

 

“Keep your eyes on the road!” Annabeth cried, reflexively hurling herself towards the steering wheel as they swerved through several lanes of traffic. Argentum snatched it, navigating them out of the chorus of horns. 

 

“When, exactly, did you get your licence?” Annabeth said, flopping back into her seat. Then, “Wait, what? My mother was murdered?”

 

“I've already said too much,” Argentum said gravely. “You'll have to wait until we get there.”

 

“But where are we going?” Annabeth said loudly. 

 

“I told you, I can't - crap. I should probably have blindfolded you.”

 

“Oh, for Christ's sake!” Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a throbbing headache coming on. “Give me the blindfold,” she said through gritted teeth.

 

“Back seat.”

 

“You just happen to have blindfolds in the back of your fake police car? I - never mind.” Annabeth reached over and found a black cloth on the seat. “Great. I'll just blindfold myself, then.”

 

“Fantastic. Saves me a job and a half.”

 

“Today just keeps getting better.” Annabeth wrapped the cloth around her face, knotting it at the back. Under the pretence of tightening it, she pushed up the corner, just enough to see out. “We better be nearly there.”

 

“Oh, we are.” A note of dread hung in Argentum’s voice. Annabeth felt the car turn sharply, and there was a loud beeping and some hissing noises. The car came to a halt. Annabeth heard voices, hushed and urgent, though she couldn't make out what they were saying.

 

Then the car door opened. Annabeth felt someone leaning across her, and the seatbelt clicked open. “You can get out now,” Argentum said, taking Annabeth's hand and helping her out of the car. “But leave the blindfold on.”

 

“Right.” As Annabeth stepped out, the heat of wherever they were was almost tangible. She could feel it radiating through the soles of her shoes and tangling in her hair, and she was instantly sweating. “Where are we?”

 

“Follow me, please,” said am unfamiliar voice. Annabeth felt something cold and hard poke her in the back, and all the breath left her body. She took a slow step forwards, reluctant to move, and the gun pressed into her skin even harder.

 

How could going into her neighbour’s house to rescue a lost necklace turn into being ushered at gunpoint through a mystery facility to meet some officials, having been kidnapped, blindfolded (by herself) and told her mother had been murdered?

 

Annabeth took another step, and another. Daring to peek out under the loose blindfold, she caught a glimpse of soaring walls and concrete and shimmering heat, like the underground parking lot underneath the block of flats her family had stayed in on their last visit to Spain. Then she heard a thumping creaking noise, like a really heavy door being pulled back.

 

Someone's hand banged against her shoulder, pushing her forwards. Annabeth tried to count the number of twists and turns they took, but she lost count after the fourteenth right, the seventeenth left, and the twentieth doorway. In the black, dark heat, Annabeth began to feel dizzy and disorientated, like she was going to fall.

 

She really hoped she didn't fall.

 

Finally, whoever was walking in front of Annabeth stopped dead, and she crashed into their back. More hushed conversation followed, and then another door opened, and then they moved forwards and the door shut again and someone reached forwards and tore the blindfold away from Annabeth's eyes.

 

The sudden light was so blinding, Annabeth screwed her eyes closed, clutching her face. Bit by bit, she opened them again, blinking away the pain. 

 

She took the scene in bit by bit, in between blinks, like a series of photographs. White walls and floor and ceiling and lights - blink - a huge white desk, polished to shine - blink - no windows - blink - two men either side of her - blink - a gun on the desk - blink - and a woman, sat behind the desk.

 

The woman had high cheekbones, dark hair pulled back in a bun, and skin the same colour as Argentum’s. She looked young. She wore a fitted black blazer and earpiece, and looked like every female villain from a superhero movie. Annabeth almost expected her to have named herself 'The Director’ or something similar.

 

“Sit,” the woman said, gesturing to the chair opposite her. “You will refer to me as the Director.” 

 

Suppressing laughter, Annabeth sat down, the cool leather squeaking against her sweaty hands. It was cooler in the room, at least. “Director, ma'am? Why am I here?”

 

The Director leaned forwards. Her eyes looked like they were made out of stone. “I need you to tell me everything you know about your mother, Miss Chase.”

 

“My mother? Not you, as well? I swear, I only broke into Kovalensky's place to get my necklace, which wasn't even his, so I really don't think I deserve to be taken to some top-secret spy facility, and -” 

 

“Miss Chase. We need to know everything about your mother. And then, you can go. If you still wish to.”

 

“Well, I will.” Annabeth folded her arms, desperately buying time whilst she thought of a way out. Every instinct in her body screamed at her not to tell the Director anything, especially not about her mother. “Why do you even need to know?”

 

The Director moved so fast, Annabeth didn't have time to react. In one fluid movement, she snatched the gun from the desk, pressing it against Annabeth's temple. “Miss Chase. Annabeth,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I hope you understand that I will not hesitate to kill you.”

 

A bead of sweat slipped down Annabeth's spine. She gripped the edge of the desk. “My mother’s name was Athena,” she began unsteadily, the words tumbling out of her in a rush, in short sharp staccato bursts, like gunfire. “She worked for some kind of bank. It meant she was often away. She had me when she was young, and when my father was even younger. This is just what my father's told me, by the way. Mom died when I was one. In a car accident. She left me a necklace. That's all I know.”

 

“Give me the necklace.”

 

“Didn't Argentum tell you?” Annabeth laughed bitterly, and the gun shivered at her temple. “I lost it last week.”

 

“Lost it…!” The Director’s gun nibbled at Annabeth's skin. Finally, after several excruciating seconds, she removed it and sat back down. “I believe you. Now, what would you like to know?”

 

“What were you doing at Kovalensky's? Who are you? Where am I? Why is my necklace so important? And why are you so interested in my mother?”

 

“Slow down, Miss Chase,” the Director chuckled. Annabeth clenched her fists. “And before we answer, we need you to sign something.” 

 

“I'm not stupid. Of course I'm not going to sign anything.” 

 

The Director slid a piece of paper across her desk. “Please, take your time.”

 

Annabeth leaned forwards, her eyes skimming the words. The letters wiggled around and flipped back to front, twisting into new words, and she pressed her palms to her temples, forcing herself to read it. “Wait. Is this some kind of - are you swearing me to secrecy?”

 

“Well, of course. I'm not stupid, either, Miss Chase.”

 

Annabeth stared at her for a long time. Then, “I don't have a pen.”

 

The Director handed her one, like she'd been expecting Annabeth to cave. The idea she was so predictable infuriated Annabeth, but there wasn't much else she could do. Heart thumping, she lowered the nib of the pen to the dotted lines, and shakily signed her name. 

 

The second pen left paper, the Director snatched the contract, her eyes gleaming. Annabeth's stomach dropped. “Now tell me everything.”

 

“For a bright girl, you really are quite dense.” The Director leaned back in her high-backed desk chair. “We're an agency, of course. A secret agency. To use the common term -” she said this like it was a bad thing - “we're spies.”

 

“Spies!”

 

“You're in Agency 62, our headquarters. We were at Kovalensky's because we, too, have been looking for your necklace. We call it the Mark. And we tracked it to Kovalensky's -”

 

“So it was him!”

 

“Perhaps, perhaps not. But, Annabeth, your mother's necklace is so important because it could be the key to everything. And because it belonged to your mother.”

 

“I still don't understand. Why my - oh. Oh.” Realisation felt like being punched in the stomach. “She was one of you, wasn't she? My mother was a - was a spy.”

 

“Very good.” The Director sounded amused. “Perhaps you are as bright as you look, after all.”

 

“But -” Annabeth opened her mouth and closed it again, completely astounded. “Why - what…” She stopped, closing her eyes. “Was Athena even her real name?”

 

The Director didn't answer, just gestured at the door, which flew open. Argentum stepped through, nodding her head to the Director. Annabeth was suddenly aware she must look a mess. “Argentum isn't your real name, either,” she guessed.

 

“Got it in one,” Argentum said. “I'm Reyna. Pleased to meet you, Annabeth.” Then, “Wait. She has signed the agreement, hasn't she?”

 

“Yes, she has,” said the Director, sighing. “You are the worst agent ever, Reyna. If you weren't my sister, you'd have been out the door years ago.”

 

“She's your sister!” Annabeth shook her head. “You're so… different!”

 

“I get that a lot. H - I mean, Director - what are we doing with Annabeth?”

 

“You may as well take her to the recruitment room,” the Director said.

 

Annabeth was already shaking her head. “Recruitment? No, thanks. I don't want to join your crazy agency.”

 

“You don't want your necklace back? Or to find your mother's murderer?”

 

Annabeth caught her eye. Beads of sweat sprung into the palms of her hands and she clenched her fists, breathing heavily. “Fine. Fine, I'll think about it.” 

 

Argentum - Reyna - jerked her head towards the door. “You'd better follow me.”

 

The 'recruitment room’ looked just like the Director’s office - white walls, no windows, and a desk in the middle. It looked so similar, in fact, that Annabeth began to wonder if they'd even left. “What do you need me to do, then?” Annabeth said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

“Sit there.” Reyna indicated one of the chairs. “And I just need you to sign here, here, here, here, and… here.” She produced several thick wedges of paper out of seemingly nowhere, as well as a pen.

 

Annabeth groaned.

 

Sixteen pages of small print, twelve ink smudges, and one cramp later, Annabeth finished signing the contracts. The second she pushed them back across the desk to Reyna, the other girl took them and pushed back her chair. “I need to take these to H - to the Director. You can go with Aurum.”

 

She indicated the tall blonde man, who nodded. “This way, if you please.”

 

Annabeth followed him out of the room. “Aurum. Matching with Argentum. You two - you're dating?”

 

“No! No. God, no. We're just friends.” He scratched the back of his neck.

 

“So...you were dating, then?” Annabeth guessed, judging from his awkward expression.

 

“No. She asked me out, like, once, and - why am I even telling you this?”

 

“Can I ask a question?”

 

“Is it related to the Agency, rather than my relationship with my colleage?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Go on then.”

 

“Do I get my own codename, like you?” Annabeth asked.

 

“Probably,” Aurum said. “Anything else?”

 

“What's your real name?”

 

“Jason.” He looked like a Jason, too, Annabeth reflected.

 

“Where are you taking me?”

 

“To the canteen.” Jason paused at a door that was so hidden in the wall, Annabeth might have missed it without him. He pressed his palm against a silver box.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I'm hungry.” The door slid open with a clunk and a hiss, and Jason ushered Annabeth in.

 

The first thing that hit her was the noise. Conversations layered on top of each other until Annabeth couldn't make out any individual words. It was warm, almost uncomfortably so, like the entirety of the agency. And the smell…! Annabeth couldn't help but think that the mouldy-food smell of cafeterias appeared to be universal.

 

“You're probably hungry, right?” Jason asked.

 

Until he said it, Annabeth hadn't realised how hungry she actually was. She hadn't eaten since lunch at school, and at the sight of food, her stomach growled longingly. “I am, actually.” 

 

“Any special dietary needs?”

 

“Nah. I eat everything.” Annabeth hugged her arms around her middle, feeling suddenly vulnerable. The other agents hadn't spotted her yet, and she felt like an imposter in their secret club.

 

“Come on, then. The brownies are to die for.” Jason led her over to the back of the canteen. “Cold food is there, hot there, and drinks there.”

 

“Okay. Thanks.” Annabeth picked up a tray and loaded it with sandwiches, pasta, a bottle of fizzy water, and one of the brownies. “Where do I pay?”

 

“You don't need to pay,” Jason said over his shoulder. “It's all free.”

 

Clutching onto her tray with two hands, Annabeth followed Jason over to a table in the corner. A group of young men and women sat around it, some perched on the table and some on the chairs. “Hi, everyone,” Jason said. “Let me introduce you to Annabeth Chase. We just recruited her.”

 

“Hi, Annabeth,” they chorused, and two girls moved up to let her in. Astounded by their friendliness, Annabeth sat down. 

 

They went round the table, introducing themselves in a blur of names and faces. By the end, Annabeth's head was spinning. 

 

“So, what do you think of the agency?” said the youngest girl there, Hazel.

 

“It's… a lot to take in,” Annabeth admitted. “This morning, I was waking up to my alarm, and now I'm a spy, in the space of twelve hours.”

 

“You get used to it,” Hazel said, squeezing Annabeth's arm comfortingly. Annabeth drew back slightly from the touch. 

 

“Thanks.” She opened her sandwich and took a bite. 

 

Just then, the cafeteria door swished open, and there was a momentary lull in the noise. Annabeth looked round, half a tuna sandwich still dangling from her mouth. Reyna strode forwards, aiming straight for their table.

 

“Hey, Reyna,” Jason said, shuffling up to let Reyna sit.

 

“Hey,” she said distractedly. “Oh, hey, Annabeth. I see you've made some friends.”

 

“Mmph,” Annabeth said through the sandwich.

 

“That’s good,” Reyna said, very seriously. “You need to have friends with you when you die painfully on your first mission.”

 

Annabeth choked on her sandwich.

 

When Hazel had finished patting her on the back, Annabeth looked up, her eyes watering. “I'm going to die?”

 

“No,” Reyna admitted. “But you have got a first mission. Come on, you're coming with me.”

 

“But… but what about my sandwich?” 

 

“No time.” Reyna stood up. “Unless you want my sister to throw you out?”

 

Annabeth stood up too. “Good luck,” said Jason, and his friends echoed his sentiments. 

 

Annabeth tossed them a close-lipped smile and then followed Reyna out of the canteen.

 

After a few minutes of walking in the blank white heat of the corridors, Reyna scanned open a door and ushered Annabeth through. Green lights flickered from the roof and floor, and huge holograms projected from screens on the walls, and shelves and shelves of books stacked up against one side. Annabeth was pretty sure she could see some kind of weapons in there, too.

 

“Welcome to the assignment room,” Reyna said. “You and me, we'll be working together on this mission. We're a team.”

 

“A mission?”

 

“Yes. We need to go over to Kovalensky's, find your necklace, and defeat the other organisation who are probably trying to get it as well.”

 

“What other organisation?” Annabeth rubbed her fingertips against her temples.

 

“Well, there's a lot, but our main opposition is a group who call themselves the Hunters. And we have reason to believe they might be after the necklace too.” 

 

“Of course.” Annabeth bit her lip. “So… do we just go?”

 

“I need to grab a few things first.” Reyna spun into a whirlwind of activity, and Annabeth just stood there, still trying to take it all in.

 

Reyna returned with an armful of gadgets. “Ready? Our ride is over here.”

 

Annabeth nodded silently, and followed Reyna over to another police car. They both climbed in, and Reyna started the car. Immediately, the whole front wall of the room retracted up into itself, and Reyna drove right out, scanning some kind of card on the way.

 

“Wow,” Annabeth said, and that was the last either of them spoke until they arrived back outside Kovalensky's.

 

It was weird, being back on her street after everything that had happened. Annabeth wondered if her dad was looking for her. She should probably call him.

 

Reyna walked in front, scoping out the house with a little green-screened glowing device. “It's clear,” she whispered. “Either the Hunters haven't got here yet, or they've already been.”

 

The house appeared to be as they'd left it, with the door key behind a flowerpot, where Reyna had apparently hidden it. They unlocked the door and made their way inside.

 

In the corpse-like relic of a house, white shapes loomed up out of the sticky, tar-like darkness. Annabeth peered around, squinting to make out anything in the foggy blackness. 

 

“The stairs are here,” she whispered, afraid that a loud voice would shatter everything.

 

“Do you know where Kovalensky'd keep it?”

 

“His room?” Annabeth guessed. “What's the time? He might not be back.”

 

Reyna consulted her screen. “Eleven thirty.” 

 

“We don't have long. Hurry.” Annabeth led Reyna up the stairs and into Kovalensky's room, where they patted down the furniture, searching for it.

 

“Any joy?” Reyna asked after several fraught moments.

 

“Nothing. You?”

 

“Nope.” Reyna sounded despairing. “Is it even here?”

 

Instead of replying, Annabeth closed her eyes and reached out for it with her mind. She imagined her mom, up in heaven or wherever, telling her where the necklace was. At first, she felt nothing, and then her fingers began to tingle.

 

“It's behind the bookshelf.”

 

She must have sounded really certain, because Reyna lunged across the room, pulling the bookshelf out of its sockets. Books crashed to the ground, and amongst the noise, Annabeth heard a ringing noise, like metal that had been struck. Something bumped into her shoe.

 

Bending down, Annabeth picked up her mother's necklace and pressed it to her cheek for a second, before slipping it into her pocket. “I have it,” she said, biting back sudden tears. “Let's go.”

 

They were just turning to leave when the front door crashed open. Annabeth turned to look at Reyna, eyes wide. “Kovalensky?” she mouthed.

 

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Reyna shook her head. “More than one person. It must be -”

 

“The Hunters,” Annabeth guessed.

 

“I hope not. But probably.” 

 

The footsteps got louder, and then the door burst open. Annabeth grabbed a candle to use as a weapon.

 

A girl burst through the door. Her hair was spiky and black, and she wore a studded leather jacket. Annabeth was pretty sure she recognised that jacket.

 

“Reyna,” the girl growled.

 

“Thalia.”

 

“Thalia?” Annabeth cried. Thalia Grace turned to face her.

 

“Annabeth? What the hell are you doing here?”

 

“I could ask you the same question,” Annabeth said defensively.

 

“Annabeth, don't listen. She's the head of the Hunters!”

 

“What? Thalia - but - she - you - what -” Annabeth stumbled backwards. “Thalia! I see you every time I go to work at that god-awful video game store, and this whole time you've been the head of a secret evil organisation and you didn't even tell me?”

 

“You're friends?” exploded Reyna.

 

“Yes, we're friends! At least, I thought so!”

 

“Annabeth, you have to get out of here. This is between me and Reyna,” Thalia said urgently. “Also, the rest of my hunters will be here soon. I don't want you to get caught up in the fight.”

 

“For Christ's sake,” Reyna sighed. “Let's just get this over with.”

 

“Okay,” Thalia agreed, and punched her in the mouth.

 

Reyna swore, hitting back with even more force. “We've had our fight. Can we leave now?”

 

“Not so easily.” Thalia swung another punch, and Reyna dodged, jabbing Thalia in the kidneys.

 

“Ow! Okay, okay. See you next time.”

 

“Next time,” Reyna said grudgingly.

 

Thalia held up a hand for a high-five, and Reyna reluctantly accepted. “Annabeth, come on,” she said. “We need to go.”

 

Annabeth followed Reyna out of the house, a little bit scared and mostly confused. “What the hell just happened?” she burst out as soon as they got out the door.

 

“Quick. Do you have the Mark?” Reyna ushered Annabeth back towards the fake police car.

 

Annabeth opened her fist to reveal the pendant, glittering against her fingers. The chain swung down and bumped against her wrist. “Of course I do.”

 

“Great. Give it here.”

 

Annabeth snatched her hand away, closing her fingers around the necklace again. “Not until I get answers.”

 

“Fine. Into the car.”

 

They got into the car, and Reyna started it up, driving a couple of minutes down the road and turning off into a lay-by. “Thalia and I are…”

 

“Friends.”

 

“Something like that. It's complicated.”

 

“So, like, lovers?” Annabeth said, feeling a funny tugging sensation underneath her ribcage.

 

“What? No! She's the arch-nemesis that I've met so many times, we've sort of become friends. Except we have to fight every time we meet, since we're on opposite sides and all, so we never got a chance to get close.”

 

“First my mother, now my friend from work.” Annabeth shook her head. “How many other people do I know who are actually secret agents?”

 

“Hopefully none. We lead very private lives.”

 

Annabeth's breath was speeding up, like something was about to happen. The tugging sensation was back, and she found herself lifting her hand and touching Reyna's cheek. “Couldn't you let someone in occasionally?”

 

“Depends who it is.”

 

For some reason, they were both whispering. Annabeth's hand came away from Reyna's cheek stained with red. “You're bleeding.”

 

“I know.” Reyna reached up, covering Annabeth's hand with her own. 

 

Annabeth held Reyna's eye for one second, two, three. Then she found herself leaning in, and Reyna's eyes fluttered closed.

 

Reyna's lips were soft and she tasted metallic and bitter, but not unpleasantly so. Annabeth felt like everything inside her had melted to putty, and all she could focus on was her hand on Reyna's skin and her lips on Reyna's mouth.

 

The kiss only lasted for a few seconds, and then they drew apart. Annabeth wasn't sure she could trust herself to speak.

 

“Annabeth?” Reyna said eventually.

 

“Yes?” Annabeth replied unsteadily.

 

“I know I should be returning you to your home, but how do you feel about getting gelato first?”

 

“At twelve A.M?” Annabeth laughed.

 

“Why not?”

 

“I'd love to,” Annabeth said, and so they drove off into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> i really appreciate any kudos or comments!!


End file.
